


Food Truck Feud

by phoenixwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Business Owner Castiel, Business owner Dean, First Meetings, Fluff, Food Trucks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6454417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean owns a successful food truck that serves up diner-style food, or as he prefers to think of it, all things deep-fried and delicious. Business is booming and everything is going great. . . until the newest food truck on the block appears. Dean scoffs at The Health Nut, a truck dedicated to serving healthy food. Dean could ignore his distaste for the truck if it wasn't for the owner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Food Truck Feud

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for ages and eventually just had to write it all down. I tried to proofread to the best of my abilities, but this work is unbeta'd and any mistakes are my own.

  
It starts with a new food truck on the block. The day it rolls in, Dean stares at it and frowns, because there are rules and regulations about this sort of thing and he didn’t think the city would permit any more food trucks on the block. But there it is, painted forest green with illustrations of vegetables and fruits on the side. The logo is shaped like an almond and proudly proclaims the name of the business is The Health Nut.  
  
It’s a freakin’ health food truck. Health. Food. Truck. Whoever heard of such a thing? That was the point of food trucks, wasn’t it, that they were portals of deliciousness to all things fast and fried. Dean’s irritated, but he can’t really bring himself to be mad because it’s not like anyone who comes to the block to visit The Health Nut would visit his food truck anyway. Sure, the outside of his trailer isn’t anything fancy — just the metal trailer with a simple logo. He even went simple with the name — his place is simply Dean’s, and Dean is proud to have his name on it. Besides, the simplicity hasn’t hindered him at all — he just had to hire another part-time employee, and he’s thinking about hiring a seasonal worker for the summer when tourist season picks up. Not that Kansas is a hotbed of tourism, but — still.  
  
His place is All-American, all the way. He parks the Impala out front every morning — it’s part of the charm — and serves up the best diner-style food you can eat while walking. Couple of different sandwiches, burgers, thick-cut fries, mac’n’cheese, even a few chicken entrees that don’t come sandwiched into between two pieces of bread, at Sam’s request. And of course, the pies. His pies are the best in town, and no one can argue with that. Even Gabe, who owns the sweet truck two spots down from Dean’s, admitted it while drunk once. The menu is simple, but classic, and since Dean opened the truck two years ago at the tender age of twenty-six, the customers have ate it up. Literally.  
  
So, yeah, there’s another food truck on the block, but it shouldn’t provide much competition. That’s the good thing about the block where the city’s allowed most of the food trucks to park — there’s limited space, so everyone has a different specialty and nobody’s business seems to hurt from steep competition. The closest thing to competition that Dean has is the barbecue truck at the end of the block, but the only thing their menus have in common is the hamburgers and a grilled chicken sandwich. Dean even eats at the other trucks for lunch sometimes, because it “fosters good will” — at least that’s what Sam says. Truthfully, Dean eats at them because he gets tired of eating his own food, and Charlie over at Lord of the Pies makes a kickass supreme pizza, even though Dean always feels ridiculous ordering the “Take the Ring to Mordor” pizza. That’s Charlie’s rule — you order with her names or you don’t get to order at all.  
  
Dean sighs as he stares at the new food truck some more, but resolves to put it firmly out of his mind. It turns out to be a busy Friday, which turns into a busy weekend, so Dean does forget about The Health Nut until Monday rolls around and the truck officially opens. Monday’s a lot slower, so there’s a steady stream of customers and not much after that. Dean glances over at The Health Nut a few times, but he never sees any customers.  
  
Damn. Dean almost feels sorry for the owner, despite his utter distaste at the chosen theme. It’s just him and Kevin, but by one-thirty they’ve finished all the lunch clean up, so Dean decides to head over and introduce himself.  
  
“Kevin! I’m heading out for a minute,” Dean calls over his shoulder. No response. Figures. Kid’s probably doing his trig homework or something. Dean always catches him working on school stuff, despite his warnings that if a notebook falls into the fryer the kid’s on his own. Kevin’s a good worker, though, so Dean can’t really complain.  
  
Instead of walking up to the ordering counter, Dean knocks at the door.  
  
The owner of The Health Nut is a man who looks to be around Dean’s age, has dark hair and piercing blue eyes, and is very,  _very_ attractive.   
  
Dean stares for a moment before regaining himself and noticing how frazzled the man looks. He’s holding a frying pan in one hand with something charred inside and Dean desperately hopes for the sake of everyone that the monstrosity in the pan is a fluke and not the guy’s normal cooking because he’s pretty sure it’s full of carcinogens.  
  
“Hey, I’m Dean, that’s my truck down there,” Dean points down the street, “thought I’d come by and introduce myself.”  
  
“Hello,” The man says, his voice low and rough. He stares at Dean for a moment before he seems to remember that Dean had been introducing himself.  
  
“Ah, yes, I’m Castiel, though I sometimes go by Cas.” He holds out the hand that’s blissfully free of decaying food. Dean shakes and then points to the frying pan.  
  
“So what’s that?”  
  
Castiel looks down at the pan, a frown on his face. “Burnt.”  
  
Dean chuckles. “I can see that. And before it was burnt, it was. . .”  
  
“A black bean burger.” Castiel’s mouth quirks up at the side. “I promise they’re generally edible.”  
  
“Hey, I believe you. First day jitters and all that.”  
  
“I suppose so. Won’t matter much if I never get any business.”  
  
“It’ll pick up,” Dean reassures, “All the trucks get low business on Mondays, even the most established ones like Charlie’s.”  
  
“Charlie’s?”  
  
“She owns the pizza one — Lord of the Pies, totally nerd,” Dean says, but he knows the fondness is evident in his voice. Charlie’s truck is the most established on the block, and she was the first one to befriend Dean, even inviting him to play Dungeons and Dragons (which he declines) and for her legendary Star Wars movie marathons (which he accepts).  
  
“My brother did warn me business might be slow at first. His truck seems to be popular, despite it being Monday,” Castiel says, peering at a truck from around the door.  
  
“Your brother owns a truck?”  
  
“Yes, Sweet Tooth.”  
  
“You’re brother is Gabe?” Dean asks, incredulous. Okay, so Sam and him are quite different, but Dean cannot imagine a world in which the man standing in front of him is Gabe’s brother.  
  
“Yes. We’re very different.”  
  
“Obviously. Well, nothing like a little sibling rivalry to keep things interesting, huh?”  
  
Castiel actually smiles at that, and there’s a glint of fierceness in his eyes. Ooh, Dean’s hit the competitive nerve, and it makes him like Castiel even more. He barely knows the guy, but as cute as he is, Dean can tell this man’s a downright force of nature when he wants to be. Maybe having The Health Nut on the block won’t be such a bad thing after all.  


* * *

  
  
Dean doesn’t see anyone at The Health Nut on Tuesday, so right before he knows the lunch rush is going to pick up he texts Sam to come eat lunch with him. Sam replies that I _’m a lawyer, Dean, I have clients, I can’t just drop everything to have lunch,_ but eventually Dean talks him into coming by for a late lunch by promising him a black bean burger.  
  
“You made me a black bean burger?” Sam asks when he shows up. Dean drops a basket of fries into oil as he replies, “Do I look like the health food truck to you?”  
  
“Dean,” Sam says with the utmost look of long-suffering, “You said there would be a black bean burger. And a salad.”  
  
“Your black bean burger is right over there, princess,” Dean points a finger in the direction of The Health Nut. He places an order on the counter. “Number twelve, your order’s up!”  
  
Dean swears he actually sees Sam’s eyes light up like a kid at Christmas when he spots the new truck. Dean rolls his eyes as Sam heads towards The Health Nut.  
  
Once the lunch rush has calmed down a bit, Dean fries up a burger for himself and meets Sam at one of the picnic tables.  
  
“This is great,” Sam says as he takes a bite of his food. He sighs happily. “When did that truck open?”  
  
“Just yesterday.”  
  
Sam looks over at the lack of a line around The Health Nut and shakes his head. “Poor guy. Too bad he’s not getting any business, his food’s good.”  
  
“Yeah,” Dean replies. Sam sets his burger down and gazes at Dean.  
  
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Dean asks around a mouthful of burger. Sam wrinkles his face in disgust at his brother’s caveman-like eating habits.  
  
“Nothing,” Sam says finally, before carefully folding the lid of his take-out container. Dean lets it drop. For now.

* * *

  
  
Business at The Health Nut eventually does pick up. Dean’s not sure how it happens; all he knows is that he sees Castiel struggling along for months, and then one day there’s actually a line at lunch time. Within a week, Castiel’s business is eclipsing Dean’s own. Oh, sure, he still has a sizable crowd at lunch, and his profits aren’t hurting any, but it becomes apparent that Castiel’s truck has become the hoppin’ lunch place on the block. Even Charlie sulks about it a little bit, and Dean didn’t think it was possible for anything to put a damper on Charlie’s usual chipper.  
  
“It’s just bird food,” she exclaims one day when Dean stops by Lord of the Pies for lunch, “who would rather have that than pizza?”  
  
“It’s just a craze. It’ll die down,” Dean says, trying to make it sound like he isn’t worried at all. He shouldn’t be, really. His business isn’t hurting at lunch, and Castiel’s truck is still the newest in the area. Who knows, maybe everyone’s crowding around The Health Nut for lunch because there was some news scare about how the good stuff is going to make everyone croak one day. Dean’s not worried.  
  
_He isn’t._  
  
“We gotta fight back, Winchester,” Charlie declares, a determined look in her eye, “I’ll make a healthy pizza, no problem. Show ‘em we can compete.”  
  
Dean raises his eyebrows. “And how do you plan on doing that?”  
  
Charlie winces. “. . . Gluten-free crust?”  
  
“And?”  
  
“. . . Spinach?”  
  
Dean shakes his head. “No offense Charlie, that sounds disgusting.”  
  
“Yeah, it does,” Charlie agrees with a sigh. She folds her arms and leans over the service counter. It’s mid-afternoon, so Dean’s the only person at Lord of the Pies.  
  
“Guess we just have to wait it out,” Charlie concludes glumly.  
  
“Come on, you know how the fads come and go around here. Remember last summer when the barbecue guys decided to make a quadruple-meat barbecue sandwich just because and for two months they got all the customers?”  
  
Charlie narrows her eyes. “I remember because I caught you eating one _twice_.”  
  
“Yeah we don’t talk about that,” Dean mumbles. “All I’m sayin’ is, give it some time. Things will even out.”  


* * *

  
Things don’t even out. At the end of the quarter, Dean’s profits are down twelve percent from the same time last year. He’s not doing bad, exactly, but he’s not doing as good as he was. For the first time since he opened his truck, Dean starts having doubts. All the other trucks have gimmicks, like Charlie’s nerdy pizza names and the weird combinations the guys at the barbecue truck come up with. Castiel’s truck has smiling vegetables on the side of it, for crying out loud. Demonic smiling vegetables if you ask Dean—the big eyes creep him out—but he can’t deny it’s bright and colorful.  
  
Dean hates gimmicks, though. All he wants to do is serve good comfort food to people. It’s not like he’s completely useless when it comes to advertising, either. Okay, he’s not that great, but his truck has a Facebook page that does pretty well. He gives out free burgers to followers and he gets Kevin to post stuff every once in awhile. Plus he’s sponsored a few community events, and he always gets business when he does that.  
  
He looks at his profit statement again. With a sigh, he deletes the seasonal employee job posting he was drafting.

* * *

  
Dean tries really hard not to be bitter towards Castiel. Of course the guy is successful — his food is good (according to Sam, anyway — Dean’s not touching the rabbit food), and he’s polite and kind to everyone. He deserves his success, so Dean tries to hide his grumpiness. He waves back when Castiel waves at him, and sometimes they exchange pleasantries in the morning when they’re setting up. It never gets any further than that, though, and Dean can’t decide if he wants it too or not. It’s infuriating, because Dean is torn between reluctantly begrudging Castiel’s success and feeling like a dick about it, and also wanting to ask Castiel to have dinner sometime at a restaurant that actually has four walls and a roof.  
  
It’s infuriating.  
  
Dean tries not to think about Castiel. It becomes easier to do as summer gets closer and business starts slowly picking back up. Everyone seems a little happier, and Charlie even lays off her attempts at making a healthy pizza. Dean’s probably the happiest out of anyone at that, because he somehow managed to get talked into being Charlie’s test subject for all her culinary attempts, and none of them went well. Before Dean knows it, his profit downturn becomes a memory and he feels silly for worrying about it at all. He ends up hiring a seasonal employee, and things are going good.  
  
Of course, his newfound complacency is startled when Castiel shows up at his truck on a slow, rainy April day.  
  
“Hello Dean,” Castiel says, head ducked under his umbrella.  
  
Dean’s startled to see the other man — both their trucks have been so busy until the recent rain that they’ve barely even seen each other in weeks — but he recovers quickly. “Hey, Cas. What can I do for you?”  
  
“I’d like a bacon cheeseburger, please.”  
  
Dean blinks. Castiel, owner of the food truck dedicated entirely to healthy food, is ordering a bacon cheeseburger. Something does not compute.  
  
“You want a bacon cheeseburger?” Dean repeats.  
  
“Yes, please.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
Castiel frowns. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
“Because you own that,” Dean says, waving his hand towards Castiel’s truck.  
  
“Oh,” Castiel chuckles, “yes, I like healthy food most of the time, but I have to admit I have a soft spot for bacon cheeseburgers. One of my favorite foods, really. I indulge from time to time, and I’ve heard that your’s are the best.”  
  
Dean grins. “Damn right they are. One bacon cheeseburger, coming right up.”  
  
Castiel watches Dean as he cooks, and it’s a bit unsettling. Not in a bad way, though. Castiel always has such singular focus; Dean can’t help but to wonder what it would be like if he was at the center of it. Scary, maybe. Or maybe just perfect.  
  
Dean tries to vanquish the thoughts from his head. Castiel is a fellow business owner, and that’s all. He’s just friendly and hungry.  
  
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says when the food’s done. Dean stares at him.  
  
“You’re not really planning on eating out there, are you? Your burger will get soggy in minutes.”  
  
Castiel glances around. “Where else is there?”  
  
Dean chuckles. “Come on, man, I’m not gonna make you stand outside. It’s a tight fit in here but at least your food won’t get soaked.”  
  
Castiel casts an appreciative glance around once he’s inside.  
  
“Not much, but got all I need to make good food,” Dean says proudly. Castiel bites into his burger and hums in appreciation. Dean watches him attack the rest of the burger, amused. Castiel doesn’t even reach for his water once.  
  
“Hungry there?”  
  
Castiel glances up, a sheepish expression on his face. “Your bacon cheeseburgers really are the best in town. How much do I owe you? A bit unconventional to eat at a food truck without paying first, I apologize.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it, man. On the house.”  
  
Castiel frowns. “This is your business.”  
  
“Cas, it’s fine. I can handle one free burger.”  
  
Castiel looks down at the floor of the truck then, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks and down his neck. It’s strangely alluring, and Dean has got to pull himself together.  
  
“Maybe I could repay you bytakingyououttodinner?” Castiel asks, but it comes out so mumbled and Dean’s so hopeful that he’s not actually sure if what he heard is actually what Castiel said.  
  
“What?” Dean manages.  
  
Castiel takes a deep breath like he’s bracing himself for sudden impact and starts talking again, slower this time. “Maybe I could take you out to dinner? Only if you want, I mean, please don’t feel obligated —”  
  
“Yes,” Dean cutting off Castiel’s rambling.  
  
“Yes?” He repeats.  
  
“Yes,” Dean says, firm.  
  
“Oh. Good. I guess I’ll just go now and text you later,” Castiel says, still fumbling over his words slightly. Castiel is heading to the door, and Dean’s not sure what he’s doing except he doesn’t want Castiel to leave, no matter how cramped and uncomfortable the tiny space of his truck is. He reaches out and grabs Castiel’s wrist.  
  
“Stay?”  
  
Castiel glances back over Dean’s shoulder towards The Health Nut.  
  
“Neither of us have any customers right now. Probably won’t, with all the rain and mud.”  
  
“Okay,” Castiel murmurs, and slides his hand down so his fingers slot perfectly in-between Dean’s. There’s a moment where they both stare at each other, wanting but unsure, and finally Castiel makes a move and cradles the back of Dean’s head with his free hands. He runs his fingers through Dean’s hair and that’s all the encouragement Dean needs to pull Castiel into a long, slow kiss that starts out sweet but turns just a bit heated when Castiel snags Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth. Dean was right; having all of Castiel’s attention on him is a little unnerving, but also amazing. Castiel kisses like it's the only thing he _can_ do at any given time, and Dean doesn’t think it’s an anomaly.  
  
“We should probably stop before we scandalize the barbecue guys,” Castiel murmurs when they finally break for air.  
  
“Good,” Dean grins, “You haven’t been here long enough to see some of the culinary monstrosities they come up with, but trust me, they deserve it.”  
  
“So I can do this again?” Castiel says, and doesn’t wait for Dean’s answer before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him closer.  
  
That afternoon, Dean learns that Castiel is very serious about health code regulations. . . But he’ll bend them a little for a heated make-out session.

* * *

  
  
**SIX MONTHS LATER**  
  
It’s a crisp Autumn day, but the cold weather hasn't kept the crowds away. Dean’s glad he added chili to the menu, because it’s selling even better than his burgers. He’s even glad he let Castiel and Sam talk him into adding a vegetarian chili option, though he won’t admit that, because that’s helping business too.  
  
He also added a Caesar salad, first at Sam’s suggestion, then a Cobb salad, which was Castiel’s idea. Dean had balked at that, until Cas told him he was being ridiculous and pulled up tons of menus on the Internet for diners that did indeed serve salad. Dean caved, but in retaliation he got Cas to add a dessert option to The Health Nut. And yeah, okay, the dessert options at The Health Nut are currently organic vanilla low-fat frozen yogurt or organic blackberry low-fat frozen yogurt, but it’s a start.  
  
Dean serves up plate after plate during the lunch rush, then puts Kevin in charge when he sees Sam walk up the ordering counter.  
  
“Have you considered giving me a raise?” Kevin shoots back.  
  
“You mean, like not firing you for doing your school work in the downtimes?” Dean says, though they both know that Dean wouldn’t, and that he doesn’t actually mind. Dean’s actually planning on giving him a raise soon anyway, but he keeps that to himself for now. He’ll surprise the kid with it later.  
  
Dean pours three bowls of chili—two vegetarian for Sam and Cas and one with meat for himself— and joins him outside.  
  
“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says, planting a kiss on the top of Dean’s head. Dean ducks his head and blushes, mostly because he knows Sam’s watching, and it’s all so — so domestic. It feels right, though, just like it has between him and Cas since the beginning. Cas moved in with Dean last month when his lease was up, and Dean drives them to the trucks in the Impala every day and they meet for lunch as much as possible and it’s just — it’s nice.  
  
Dean didn’t know he had it in him, but when he glances around at everything he has — his brother, his successful business, the Impala, and Cas — it’s simple, but he’s content.  
  
Castiel stares at him. Cas always knows when he’s getting deep in his own head. “What are you thinking about?”  
  
Dean shrugs. “Nothing. Just about how you bringing that hippy-dippy food truck to the block was the best thing that could’ve happened.”  
  
Castiel awards Dean’s slightly out-of-place sentimentality with a soft smile that makes Dean’s heart flip in his chest. Six months, and that one smile still brings it out every time.  
  
“Oh my God,” Sam says, “Save it for the wedding vows.”  
  
“Shut up, Sam,” Dean says, going for gruff but unable to really be mad, because for once, he's _happy._  



End file.
